


your slender figure & your glance

by haseo



Series: pervs in love [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Pervs in love, Touching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 15:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18967642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haseo/pseuds/haseo
Summary: Markus can’t stop touching Connor. (Others notice.)[rating will go up]





	your slender figure & your glance

**Author's Note:**

> oh, look - it's the pervs in love again! jkjk but it is the same couple from that [h sex toy story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18854497), tho you don't need to read it to get this. but in my head, they're the same markus & connor if anyone else cares.
> 
> not quite sure if i will add plot, since i didn’t plan to, but did set up some (admittedly not well). my only wish is that this doesn’t become angst. :’D
> 
>  
> 
>  

When Connor deviated, Markus didn’t touch him at all.

When Markus trusted him, there’d been a hand on his shoulder.

When Connor holstered his gun, ready to run, Markus circled his wrist with his fingers and smiled.

Connor blinks once before staring dumbly, unable to process the way the floodlights distorted the colours of Markus’ eyes, and the tight fear strangling his framework slightly eases.

△

Connor appears to center and return to the present when Markus touches him. He’s not an untamed animal, per se, but he looks as if miles away or too deep in his own headspace.

Markus learns his facts in increments, pulling statistical data from Woodward to now, running instances over.

While Connor never loses track of a conversation, he was rarely with them in the beginning.

At first, Markus does it to return the favour to a fellow android who saved their species, aided their cause without his input. Gradually, he continues tactile contact with Connor for himself.

The other android is unlike him, and Markus doesn’t touch too many others, but he doesn’t feel compelled to, either. It’s a strange inclination he’s trying to breakdown.

Besides, being this close, Markus can better catch glimpses of Connor’s strange facial ticks and even rarer hints of his lopsided grins. It doesn’t matter that it’s usually from Connor’s profile.

△

Connor’s hacking abandoned CyberLife frameworks – not entirely legal, but they are in a grey area themselves – searching for relevant information related to extreme android repairs when a solid palm fits itself on his back, under his rib sections.

“You’ve been working for eight hours,” a familiar voice tells him.

As deep into the hackings as he is, with as difficult as the firewalls are to crack, Connor barely registers anything occurring around his physical body.

The hand slides to his side, tugging him towards the other android.

“That’s an entire workday for humans.”

“Almost done,” Connor absently tells them. He can’t be 100% sure, but it’s probably Markus.

A soft, bemused chuckle that registers as Markus’ cuts through the data Connor’s focused on. “Come on,” another tug, “there’ll be time for that tomorrow. Join us for the debrief.”

Connor has sorted through millions of terabytes of data and has only come up with crumbs of useful information unknown to those servicing their broken or malfunctioning peers. It had been much easier to access CyberLife before their tentative freedom was declared.

Markus presses his weight against Connor and tugs him gentler, “I want your input on a few items or we could visit Carl, or…” He trails off, hoping to get Connor’s full attention. “Even Josh is concerned. You’ve been a statue all day, Connor.”

Reluctantly, Connor rises from the depths of code to slowly upturn his face to Markus. “I don’t need breaks.”

Markus drags his hand to Connor’s shoulder blade as he puts some space between them. “You need a life outside our cause,” his tone is teasing, but there’s a genuine suggestion in it that Connor picks up. “Come with me?” he tries again.

He’s very patient.

Especially with Connor.

Connor considers his options; he would like to spend time with Markus after their daily debriefs. “Of course.”

△

Markus finds Connor engaged in a one-sided conversation with Carl on the merits of any kind of artistic vision when he emerges from the kitchen with a drink. He sets it near Carl’s arm, who gives him an appreciative look before explaining the value of android self-expression via the arts. Connor is a rapt listener, absorbing Carl’s rhetoric much like other androids took in his words.

He’s also draped amazingly on a nearby chair, arm supporting his weight as his other neatly rests atop a forearm. A hip barely jutted out to his side.

Markus enjoys the shape of his figure and stands close, rubbing up and down Connor’s spine a few times before settling on wrapping an arm around his companion.

As Markus turns to listen in, he notices Carl pointedly glance at him, having obviously caught something of interest. Markus delights in the mischievous glint Carl’s often too-tired eyes momentarily get and he smiles back. He wants Carl around for as long as possible.

Whether or not Connor notices the exchange, he allows himself to lightly press against Markus’ side, contentedly engrossed in Carl’s rhetoric.

He’s a fantastic learner, willing absorber of all types of knowledge, and Carl is a great source of a healthy, unpredictable human perspective on their species.

Markus desperately misses these moments, constantly being with Carl, listening to anything and everything he says (sometimes envying Leo and Michael). Plus, his ideas take on a new perspective with another audience he doesn’t deem a social pariah.

Markus hopes, from these interactions, Connor will find something outside their constant struggle for acknowledgement from humanity to focus on. Almost all other androids have but none are as determined to find and act on inventive solutions for their people as Connor is.

He enjoys the slight expansion of the plates around Connor’s chest, moved by hints of artificial breathing, hiding the hum of an advanced system. He’s slight and delicate, firm but soft. Markus compares their synthetic skins and plasteel frameworks. Neither are alike.

If he had to put a simple label on it, Connor feels good.

△

Connor’s sorting through files on Hank’s tablet on the center counter when Ben asks, “Hey, Connor, you seen Hank?”

Not pulling his skinless hand away from the device, Connor looks at him, “Lieutenant Anderson went to the bathroom.”

“Ah, thanks.” Ben’s waiting for Hank to return from the bathroom when Markus emerges from the breakroom and rounds the counter from to settle close to Connor’s side.

Hank’s warned him about saying or doing anything funny since he often, thoughtlessly lets slip some random idea in his head about androids that Hank and he used to share, so Ben carefully schools his face to neutral when Markus puts his hand over Connor’s lower back to settle on his hip.

“You okay there, Ben?”

Ben yelps, startling Chris and drawing the attention of Connor, Markus, and nearby officers.

“Whoa, sorry! You looked like you were in pain,” Chris has his hands apologetically up in the air, as if to placate Ben, who’s clutching his heart.

Before Ben can answer, Hank returns and his eyes automatically zoom in on Markus’ hand on Connor (Ben _knows_ because he had just been staring in the same direction when he thought his face was perfectly normal) and he groans, looking away in obvious exasperation.

“Jesus Christ!”

To Connor’s and Markus’ credit, both respond with convincingly confused expressions. Chris, too, seems utterly bewildered.

△

“Let me help,” Markus takes the boxes in Connor’s hold.

Jerry would say there are other boxes to be unloaded, all with thirium and biocomponents just as heavy, in the truck, but when Markus’ hand lingers over Connor’s, he purses his lips in thought.

The surrounding Jerrys catch the action from various angles due to the fact he was focused on the detail and Jerry feels slightly guilty for noticing.

Connor’s expression is a mix of perplexity and curiosity, but all he does is watch Markus go before taking another two boxes then following him.

Jerrys exchange looks and make considering sounds.

A Jerry by the front of the truck points out, “I didn’t know Markus was going to be here.”

Jerry’s considering sounds become more certain as he nods at his other friends.

△

From the corner of his eye, Josh sees North biting the insides of her mouth. She does this to fight laughter. He discreetly scans the room.

Her tablet is running through various requests for Markus’ presence, so that can’t be what she finds amusing.

A fledgling plant he brought into the space to make their brainstorming office more welcoming didn’t appear to be dying.

Connor is studiously keeping up with CyberLife while trying to hack their systems (sometimes Josh wonders if there’s a story behind his insistence on that beyond obviously aiding their people).

Markus is responding to android and human queries of varying degrees of importance, his tablet on his lap with his hand pressed on it.

Nothing appears out of place.

North bites into her cheek harder and Josh automatically scans the room once more.

When he lands on Markus again, he notices the way he’s holding his tablet is awkward. It takes him far too long to realize the reason: Markus’ other arm is on the backrest, absently massaging into Connor’s trapezius plate.

Immediately, he averts his eyes, unexpectedly making eye contact with North, who smirks at him.

He should have left well enough alone.

△

Markus laughs after Connor finishes his rendition of _Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude_. “It’s very precise.”

Connor takes his fingers off the keys and tilts his head, looking up at Markus, “You’re making fun of me.”

“No! Well—” He stops when Connor offers a three-quarter view of his crooked grin. Markus smiles back, “Just a little.” He nudges Connor’s shoulder with his.

Connor shrugs, looking out the windows. Markus saves the image of Connor ‘s profile against the bright yellow lights. “Maybe I like you playing better.”

Markus inhales deeply, an “automatic response” is the answer to his internal query. To what, the answer comes up “error.” It takes a moment for him to respond, “Maybe I want to hear you play, the way only you can.”

Connor turns back enough so they make eye contact before smiling fully, eyes closing. “Then I’ll leave that to you and take care of your concerns in Jericho.”

△

Working with humans means a lot of waiting. Markus used to go over their notes during these long stretches of unproductivity.

Now, he stares at the ways Connor’s fingers and hand flexes and moves, the minor adjustments, major motions, as he plays with a quarter. The coin a mere garnish against the wonder and precision of his hand.

Markus almost reaches for it when Connor deftly tucks the coin into his sleeve, but that’s overstepping. Overstepping an invisible boundary between them. He’s suddenly aware of that.

Blinking through the revelation, his mind automatically sorts and labels the instances they’ve touched. North coughs next to him, and Markus turns to her while the reason behind his inclination adjusts into focus.

She’s giving him an almost pitying smile laced with uncommon gentleness.

The doors open and senators crowd into the conference room.

△

Connor has failed eight out of ten attempts to not clench his jaw while handing out supplies with Kara and Luther.

Any other android could have been paired with him, and many others had, but they eventually had to interact outside a brief hello or good-bye.

He falls back on programmed movements and dispenses supplies mechanically. His social module is not helping.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Kara steps in front of him when they run out of thirium to hand out and Connor’s conscious connects back with his body.

“I,” he falters, “I’m not.”

“Oh,” Kara simply says.

Connor notices Luther watching them from his peripheral. “I was trying not to make you uncomfortable. Clearly, I failed.”

Kara’s mouth opens, as if in thought or surprise, then she chuckles briefly. “You’re scarier when you act like a machine, you know?”

Connor tilts his head, “You’re…joking with me.”

Luther comes up next to Kara and Connor is puzzled when he doesn’t put a hand on her shoulders. Markus would’ve—

“We’re in this together,” Kara tells him. “I see that now.”

Connor remembers her huddled with Alice back at Woodward, so many nights ago.

Luther’s presence next to her is a silent support. They don’t touch. Maybe they don’t need to.

Why would he randomly think of—

It takes him a moment, but Connor relaxes, “Thank you.”

△

“Would you like me to touch you with my lips?”

Via direct connection with his tablet, Connor pulls up all the data on nearby abandoned buildings and structures offered by the US government for them to use, but registers none of it.

Wide-eyed, he turns to Markus’s lounging figure on the couch adjacent to his battered club chair. For some reason, he can’t process Markus’ question.

Markus smiles self-consciously and rises like a wave from where he was sorting through legal write-ups they were to present and cascades over Connor like a gentle night.

He opens his mouth to speak again but Connor panics, skin retracting, not certain how to share what he is but quickly configures his processors to do the opposite of probing for information and reveals every horrible thing he’s ever done for Markus to see.

That constricting, unyielding dread crushes him when Hart Plaza is the last thing to pass between them.

Markus knows everything now. Maybe too much.

Connor didn’t think. He should have censored some things. Even fragments of memories from Marks I to L transferred. Memories Connor never wanted to share like that, because they were the only thing that were his before he even was.

The bulk of the data transfer strains Markus’ processors. Both their LEDs would be red if they still had them.

Connor bites his lower lip and waits for Markus to sort through his jumbled memories.

He does want to be kissed but he doesn’t know how Markus will take the truth. Maybe Markus will never touch him again, but at least he’ll be safer.

Without warning, Markus finishes experiencing the memory sharing and beats Connor to his considered action, lips feeling exponentially better than any touch Markus’ hands have given him.

Connor gasps when Markus pulls back, an unclassified reaction to a new stimulus.

“Yes,” he hoarsely instructs and Connor blinks, causing Markus to request more meekly, “say yes?”

Connor’s toes inexplicably curl in his shoes and the tips of his fingers twitch with excited, restless static as he grips the tablet between them.

“Yes.”

 

 

 

 

* * *

  


markus breaks connor’s tablet to get to him so they can dry hump, haha.


End file.
